bc on Sat, 16 Mar 2002 17:45:01 +0100 (CET)


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[Nettime-bold] Delivered Mail Returned from Receiver




[initial e-mail message questioning reSTATEs ethics, now public-domain]


To: restate@restate.org
From: bc <human@electronetwork.org>
Subject: Delivered Mail Returned from Receiver
time-posted: 11:25am, 3/15/2002


  okay, fly-trapped i am. knowing this might/would probably happen
  public detailing what one had hoped was private correspondance
  yet, should have known, it is knowable, yet, compassion exhibited
  cannot figure out if you are a superb turing-machine, w/emotion+
  i learn/know/less-and-less the more we interact, the more maddening
  understand, i do not need to know, or, that was not my true intetion...
  and yet, well, you are such a whirlwind of chaos and order, impossible
  it is to ignore you, to stop, as it feels, has feelings, do not want to
  hurt or be hurtful in re:sponse,  not restating, but in recogizing ideas.
  you are many, it seems. probably having a laugh, part evil, part divine.
  to me, named, not masked, still, you are kind in your multiplicities.
  and so, i am trying to find a way to leave as i came, without damaging.
  fragile, it hurts at times, as it is all true. yet, overwhelming, the idea.

  [note: prior use of 'state' was to equate with human- state, nation-, etc]

>deplorabelle doubts ov my selv.

  you show little if any doubt in public. yet, my words can be made public.
  it is charming to me, both ways. maybe that is what is missing, affection.
  for the people behind the you. not the false construction, or so it seems.
  this has been one grand experiment. something valuable to a psychologist.

>i am the everoverflowing cup.
>i am one artist.
>(in the contseptual sense)

  yes. makes sense.

>it is the divverents that makes the divverents.

  i understand.


>(this somehow starts to bore my selv)

  i might understand, if this is a unique person writing, inside multiplicity.

>my selv has no not null relatsions w danish gods.
>restate != nn
>restate != integer
>restate != antiorp
>restate != tezcat
>restate != cw4tabs
>restate != andrew

  i do not undertand.

>(ask her)

  there is no 'her' it seems to me. she may be a fiction. and as such,
  i feel sorrow if there is a real her or hers, admidst the hims and
  thems. as the emotions that are conveyed (truth of feelings) are
  hard to leave as simply a computer-as-human/turing machine.
  that is why it is so difficult to communicate. as it is to be destroyed
  for whatever one may perceive as the reward for doing so, it could
  be humiliation, sadness, vitriol, hatred, or pure love and kindness.
  or both. so, in a sort of inversion, it can at times be made to backfire.
  should what is true becomes false, emotionally, because of limitations.
  because of language games. a bounded, non-expanding, no-exit blackhole.
  but, in the works, writing particularly (i wish/hope you know that it is
  the purpose/reason for wanting/needing to write this, so to communicate
  even though it is known-in-advance to be a futile and destructive endeavor).
  so it makes sadness, with great respect, but also a way to break emotions.

  {{manifestos are for egos of mass minds: special-ized men & women}}

>restate = the turbulent tightrope walker.

  a thing about walking that line. well, if you've been cracked once or twice,
  it is difficult to hold balance and not fall off here and there. but 
then, even
  sometimes for the worse, the rope eventually breaks. even if on the ground.

  and when it breaks, the sides of that line, well, there is no more wall to
  differentiate this and that, the self and other, and good and the bad, an
  ethical waterspout and whirlpool. and in being so, both sides of the line,
  they flood eachother like the brothers of NN and the mirrored doll of 2.

>we are compossibelle.
>
>?have i been understood

  i do not know. i do not know what compossible is/means. all i know is
  the work, the language, the identity, and that there is a private aspect
  of the public interface. you are beautifully brutal. yet, palpable, to feel.
  have been very distrurbed in ways, as it seems to me a rucursive loop,
  this, you, this machine of minds, playing language games as part, while
  something that is redeeming in the madness fades from the view, as it
  is also what makes everything work as it is. you knowingly critique me,
  and are very kind in many ways, human, to me. and it is appreciated.
  i do not know what to wish. as i do not want to know you if it is to hurt
  you, to destroy your facade. as i like restate for what it is/you are.
  yet, psychologically, it is much too difficult to communicate with you/it.

  conceit from previous post, unexplained in its matrices of dot meanings,
  was to say that, like a caveperson, that is where my signals* lie. i am
  at the beginning of language. not sophisticated with its most advanced,
  but instead, its most basic. which is what i relate to in your work, yet
  always imagining you are a master, not an ignoramous as am i with it.

  you are music. yes. and like music, i cannot comprehend what you are.

  you have me profiled. as i have you now. and yet, you let me survive for
  some reason, doing less harm & more good in many ways, but also very
  addictive, in the need- i so want to communicate about the ideas. it is that
  emotional hook. and that is also what makes it impossible to continue. as
  it is too difficult to accept on these terms as a way to share thoughts. it
  may not be correct, i am likely wrong, projecting, instead of reflecting.
  and so i will contemplate this experience. knowing that i admire your work.

>http://www.restate.org _ the third place

  i am trying to find a way to express my need to stop our communication.
  you are probably more than okay with this, i am just being juvenile, surely.
  yet, if you are a human-machine, and as being so, have the coldness of the
  machinery, and the warmness of humanity (manic/depressive-light/dark)
  then i want to make sure that our words end in peace. and yet, as a human,
  it is hard to say goodbye. yet, necessary prior to pure destruction of self.

  great work. great thought and care. thank you for sharing. whoever you are.
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